


that the ice was so thin under the snow

by the_one_that_fell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anxiety, First Meetings, Found Family, Getting Together, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-18 22:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: When Jack awoke, he was in a strange bed in a strange house.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: one not graphic description of a wolf catching and eating prey, a dog abandoned in a car (but isn't hurt)
> 
> ha ha don't look at me i don't know

When Jack awoke, he was in a strange bed in a strange house. 

This would have worried him more if his head hadn’t felt so fuzzy, but, as it was, all he could focus on was the unbearable ache in his bones, the weakness of his breaths. There would be time to worry when he could remember more than his name. 

The bedroom door creaked open and a man peeked inside. “Oh, you’re awake,” he said, so softly Jack could barely hear him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Bad,” Jack grunted, struggling—and failing—to sit up. The man hurried across the room, hands outstretched. Jack watched those hands as they pressed against his chest, easing him back down onto the pillow. They were beautiful hands, tanned and bruised and strong—he could see the muscle in them, the rough strength. Jack let himself be tucked in by this strange man and his lovely hands. “Where am I?” He remembered to ask as the man lightly touched his forehead, checking for fever. 

“The Coop,” the man said, voice louder now. “If you mean specifically, you’re just outside Syracuse. We found you tangled up in our fence. Big drinker?” He asked, voice both amused and concerned. 

“No,” Jack said, shaking his head. He immediately regretted this as the room began to spin violently. “Been sober two years.”

“Well, something made you wild last night,” the man said matter-of-factly, smoothing down the quilt that covered Jack’s naked torso. “But we’ll worry about that later. Are you hungry? I’ve got breakfast cooking downstairs.”

“No,” Jack said, a little too gruffly. He wasn’t hungry, despite it being late morning, and even felt full, the sickly kind of full that came from eating too much and too richly. “Water?” 

“Here, Ransom left a water bottle on the bedside table after they carried you here.” The man grabbed the dented, metal thing off the table and handed it to Jack, who felt thirstier than he ever had in his life. He chugged several mouthfuls before the man said, “Slow down, you’ll be sick.” 

Jack did slow down, and after the burn in his throat subsided he asked, “Who are you?” 

The man smiled and extended a hand. “Eric Bittle, at your service. The boys call me Bitty. And you are…?”

“Jack.” 

“Well, Jack, I suppose you aren’t from around here. What brings you to our neck of the woods?” 

Jack took another sip of water and thought hard for a moment. “I was visiting a friend. And then I was travelling-  _ Blue _ .” 

Eric looked startled. “Blue?” 

“My dog,” Jack hissed. He braced both hands on the lumpy mattress and pushed himself up, grunting in pain as every muscle and joint in his body screamed in protest. “She was in my car- we were driving- I need to find her-”

“Jack, Jack,” Eric gripped Jack’s shoulders and struggled to hold him still. “You are in no state to go looking for Blue. I’ll send the boys out, we’ll find her. Tell me what we’re looking for.” 

Jack described his car and his dog, anxiety tightening in his chest like a screw. Everything hurt, everything shook, and all Jack knew was that Blue had probably spent the night trapped in his car alone and afraid and very, very cold. 

“You sit here, I’ll round up the troops,” Eric said. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her. Drink water and lie back down, okay? You need rest.” 

Jack did as he was told, but only very reluctantly. Eric slipped from the room and Jack could hear voices from downstairs. Then a door opened and slammed somewhere, and outside a car rumbled to life. Jack could hear the crunch of gravel beneath wheels, the soft, sock-padded steps of someone walking up stairs, even the creak and groan of the mattress under his infinitesimal shifts and movements. He took a slow, deep breath and tried to relax, despite the wave of fear now crashing down on him. 

Eric came back into the room holding a plate of toast. “Rans and Holster are out looking for Blue now. I’ve texted Shitty and he and Lards’ll go looking after the market. We’ll find your baby girl, don’t you worry about it.” 

“Why am I here?” Jack asked, frowning. “Why not just drop me off at the hospital? Where did you even find me?” 

Eric shrugged. “Rans is a paramedic, he thought you were fine, apart from the cuts and bruises and dehydration. You didn’t show signs of alcohol poisoning, or any sort of aggressive or self-destructive behavior. Maybe it was a bad call,” he added, toying nervously with a loose thread on the quilt. “But here you get toast and far fewer needles.” 

“Okay,” Jack said. “But where-?”

“Like I said, you were tangled up on our fence,” Eric said, face darkening. “You’d tried to crawl under, like the coydogs do, but passed out and got stuck.” 

“Eric,” Jack said, voice growing thick. “I don’t- I don’t drink. I haven’t touched anything- anything like that in years. What...why can’t I remember what happened? Why was even here?”

“I don’t know,” Eric said softly, brushing a piece of hair from Jack’s brow. “But we’ll figure it out. Maybe we should take you to the doctor today. That bite on your arm isn’t looking too good, maybe it’s infected.”

“Bite?” Jack frowned. “The little nip I got from Ken- my friend’s neighbor’s dog? I thought that had scabbed over.” 

He pulled his arm from the blanket to look at the bite he’d gotten a few days prior. The dog had been scared and it really hadn’t hurt much, so Kent had poured some antiseptic on it and bandaged it up and they’d called it a day. Yesterday, it had been a scab. Today, it looked almost fresh, red and irritated and aching. “Huh,” he said. “Maybe.” 

“Try and get some sleep,” Eric said, calloused hand brushing over Jack’s shoulder for a second. “Everything will make more sense when you wake up.” 

Jack nodded, weariness coming over him again, and he let himself drift off, the phantom touch of Eric’s hand the last thing on his mind. 

 

* * *

 

_ Jack was running.  _

_ Running, and smelling, and smelling prey, and running, and chasing, and running, and lunging, and tearing, and howling, and- _

Jack bolted up in bed, gasping for air. The sheets tangled around his body were soaked through with sweat, cold and damp against his bare skin. His throat hurt, ached, and he shakily reached for the mostly-empty water bottle at his bedside. 

“Jack?” Eric rushed into the room, eyes wide with concern. “You were screaming, are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” Jack swallowed roughly and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. “Dream.” 

Eric moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He was handsome, now that Jack looked at him again, with boyish features and large, expressive eyes. “Bad one, I reckon.” 

“I dreamt I was a wolf,” Jack whispered. “I was howling.” 

“Full moon’s got you in her grips, huh?” Eric laughed softly. “She does that. Well, I know something that’ll make you feel better.” When Jack tilted his head in confusion, Eric nodded towards the window. “The boys found Blue, asleep in your car. She’s out there now playing fetch with them and Apple and Peaches. Our dogs,” he added. “They already seem mighty fond of her. And the dogs think she’s okay, too.” 

Jack laughed, though it hurt his chest. “I picked her up outside Odessa. Thought she was a coyote, she was so thin and dirty, but the vet thinks she’s mostly Blue Heeler.”

“Good companions,” Eric said with a nod. “Ours are pitbull mixes, so I hope she likes to play all day. They’re useless guard dogs, really, but great at playing.” 

Relief flooded Jack’s body, loosening all of the tension he’d been holding. “Was she scared?” He asked, feeling even more comforted as Eric scooted closer to fuss with Jack’s damp pillows. 

“Yes,” Eric said softly. “And there’s a bit of a mess that needs to be cleaned up properly in your back seat, but she’s eaten and relieved herself on every tree in the yard and is probably very anxious to see you.” 

Jack nodded. “I should get dressed and get out of your hair-” He started, but Eric cut him off with an incredulous scoff. 

“Oh, no, you are having at least one meal with us, mister. You are clearly in no state to drive, and Miss Blue has to finish her rousing game of fetch. I brought up one of your bags, so you should shower and change, and then we’ll figure out what happened and if you need to see a doctor.”

Jack sighed and nodded. "If you insist," he said reluctantly. 

"I do," Eric said. "And we're having stew tonight," he added as he walked towards the door. "I hope you like beef."

Jack's stomach grumbled in answer for him. "Sounds great," he said, smiling at Eric. 

"Good." Eric beamed back. "We'll get you back in tip-top shape, don't you worry, Jack. You'll see."  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this chapter is like...super representative of me wanting to write a werewolf fic without writing like....any action....just that sweet sweet angst.......
> 
> TW: vomiting, somewhat graphic description of a wolf hunting and killing prey, blood mentions, vague non-graphic descriptions of violence

Dinner was an...interesting affair. 

The men who’d found Blue—Ransom and Holster, Eric called them—were loud and boisterous, and eerily in sync at times. They one called Shitty was somehow even louder, and the only woman among them, Lardo, uttered maybe three words during the entire meal. Still, between the looks she gave Jack and the way she appraised him when she thought he was distracted, it felt like she said more than all of them combined. 

Blue ate with the other two dogs in the kitchen, already at home in this strange, strange house. The dog food itself appeared homemade, meat and rice and sweet potatoes. Jack wondered if Eric was a chef, or maybe the house husband of this ragtag family unit. Either way, he piled dish after dish onto the table in front of them, beaming when Jack’s mouth fell open in shock. 

“It’s not every day we get a guest for dinner,” he said in explanation. 

Shitty slapped Jack on the back and laughed. “Living with Bits spoils you. We eat like kings, thanks to our favorite baker.” 

Eric gave him a mock bow. “So we got some rosemary focaccia that’s been in the freezer, a cranberry-walnut salad with that goat cheese I got from Mrs. Shindle next door, my Moomaw’s classic beef stew with extra potatoes for Ransom, and, for dessert, the beta version of my apple pie pierogies. If y’all like ‘em, I’ll be putting them on the menu for next week, I think.” 

“Menu?” Jack asked as the others around him began shoveling food onto their plates. 

“For my bakery,” Eric said, sitting down at the head of the rectangular table, across from Jack. Despite his small stature and youth, Eric Bittle struck Jack in that moment as the patriarch of this household. “I always test out recipes on these goofs.” 

“And we love him for it,” Holster said around a large mouthful of stew. Jack took the proffered bowl of salad from Ransom and finally dug into the meal Eric had conjured from thin air. 

It was as fantastic as it smelled, all spices and herbs and beautifully complementing flavors. 

As they ate and talked and laughed, Jack noticed that every person at the table was drinking beer, except for him and Eric. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason why. Was Bittle watching his figure? Did he have an early shift? Or, like Jack, did he struggle with alcoholism? Surely he wasn’t gluten free, if the pile of bread on his plate was anything to go off of. Jack found himself wanting to know the answers to every questions he had about Eric, wanting to know everything about this man. 

“Before we get too far into dinner,” Shitty said, standing and raising his glass. “I’d like to propose a toast. To our new friend. Oh, and her owner, too.” 

The others laughed and raised their drinks. Jack rolled his eyes and grinned. These men had really taken a shining to Blue, and he really couldn’t blame them. She'd been a good friend to him; this would be a good family to leave her with, when he set off on his own. 

“I hope you’re enjoying dinner, Jack,” Eric said as they settled back into the meal. “After the day you’ve had, I thought you could use some good, hearty comfort food.” 

Jack swallowed his mouthful of stew and nodded. “It’s really good, thank you.” 

The smile Eric gave him was blinding, and Jack felt warm and content in its light.

 

* * *

 

Dessert was delicious, of course, and Jack felt full to bursting when he asked Holster where his car keys were. Holster gave him a startled look, but motioned toward a basket on the kitchen counter. 

“Aren’t you staying the night?” Ransom asked, looking as surprised as Holster. Before Jack could say no, Eric was there, hands on his hips. 

“Of course you’re staying the night,” he said simply, casting Jack an exasperated look. “Honestly, it’s like you  _ want _ to end up naked and tangled in a fence again. You need a full night’s sleep and I’d really feel better if you went to the doctor tomorrow.” 

“I’m fine,” Jack argued, taken aback by Eric’s strength as he herded Jack towards the stairs. “Really. I don’t want to put you out any longer. You don’t even know me.” 

“Look, mister, I may not go to church anymore, but taking in a lost and weary traveller is just the Christian thing to do.” Eric directed him to the room he’d woken up in, looking at Jack with a determined expression. Blue followed on their heels, seeming far more content to spend another night in the Coop than Jack.  “I’ll be making omelets in the morning, so please join us for breakfast. Sleep well, Jack. Blue.” 

With one last smile, Eric was gone from the room, the door shutting softly behind him. Jack sighed and took the towels someone had set on his bed and placed them on the dresser. Blue curled up in the corner, happy to sleep between the wall and the radiator. 

Jack sat down on the foot of the bed, feeling dizzy. He’d been off since dinner, and thought maybe the stew had disagreed with him. But it wasn’t nausea Jack felt; it was an anxious restlessness. He glanced out at the night-darkened woods surrounding the house and dilapidated barn, and felt a deep, itching urge to run out into the trees. The moon overhead was full and bright, and in that moment it seemed like the most beautiful thing Jack had ever seen in his life. 

Then the light of the moon seemed to shift. Jack's vision blurred, suddenly, and the world around him screamed.

 

* * *

 

When Jack awoke, he found himself in what looked like the rundown barn outside the house. He was sprawled on the dirt, completely naked, feeling as shaky and sore as he had the morning before. But this time...this time he remembered how he spent the night. In what  _ form _ he spent the night. 

Without warning, Jack hurled, retching violently onto the ground in front of him. He’d been a wolf, or thought he was a wolf, or maybe just wanted to be a wolf. He’d chased rabbits and deer, had caught something small and warm and squirming and torn it apart with his teeth-

“He’s back to normal,” someone above him said, and Jack looked up to see Lardo peering through one of the high-up windows. He wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten up there, but Lardo seemed like a person who could do whatever she wanted, whenever she felt like it. 

Behind him, the large barn doors squeaked open, and then Eric was at his side, shoving a water bottle into his hands and draping a blanket over his shoulders. 

“Lord, Jack, are you okay?” He asked, smoothing down the wrinkles in the blanket. Jack didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything—but drank the water greedily. 

Behind Eric stood the other men, all watching Jack with more caution than Eric displayed. “That was...that wasn’t good, man,” Holster said after a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, feeling sick again. Eric glared at Holster, lips pursed together. 

“You clearly couldn’t help it,” he said, motioning for Jack to drink more water. “I mean- you turned into a wolf, for Pete’s sake. That’s not exactly on par with losing your temper, now is it?” 

He smiled kindly at Jack, and that was the only thing that kept him from panicking totally. “A wolf?” He asked. “So I’m not crazy? That happened?” 

“Dude, no,” Ransom said, shaking his head. “You looked like- like a Direwolf or something. It was wild.” 

“The dogs really freaked out,” Shitty added, wrapping an arm around Lardo’s shoulders as she walked into the barn. “Well, mostly Peaches. Little shit peed all over the laundry room. But, like. Holy fuck, man. Holy _fucking_ shitballs.”

“Werewolf,” Lardo said, examining Jack thoughtfully. “Who knew?” 

“Why am I totally freaking out?” Holster said, glaring down at Lardo. “And she’s all, ‘Werewolf. Chill. No biggie.’ C’mon, Lards, we should  _ all _ be freaking out. Jack most of all.” 

“A werewolf,” Eric breathed, running a hand up and down Jack’s arm. Even through the blanket, Jack could feel the warmth of his touch.  “Thought that was just movies, stories.” 

“I’m glad we didn’t take him to the hospital,” Ransom said in an undertone. “Can you  _ imagine _ ?” 

“Let’s not,” Shitty said, and though his tone was easy, there was something warning in his eyes. Jack was grateful for that.

“Are you alright to stand?” Eric asked Jack, hands resting on Jack’s shoulders. When Jack nodded, slowly, Eric murmured, “Let’s get you up to bed, then. There we go.” 

With Ransom and Holster’s help, Jack rose to his feet and let himself be led back to the house. “This is way preferable than carrying you,” Ransom joked, but Jack didn’t feel like laughing. 

“It’s handy Shitty moved into Lardo’s room last month,” Eric said behind him. “Now Jack has one all to himself.” 

“Perfect timing,” Lardo agreed. Then, in a whisper Jack probably wasn’t supposed to hear, “Do you think all werewolves have asses like that, or is he just special?” 

Eric sputtered and Shitty laughed and Jack found himself smiling, despite everything. 

 

* * *

 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” 

Eric blocked the front door with his entire body, arms crossed. “You were literally a wolf less than twelve hours ago. You’re going back up to your room and resting, mister.” 

Jack glanced at the dogs, who all followed Eric around like he was some sort of animal whisperer. (It was the treats in his pockets, Jack was almost certain.) “ _ My _ room?” Jack asked, mostly to be a little shit. “You got a thing for adopting strays, eh?” 

Eric rolled his eyes and threatened Jack with his wooden cooking spoon until Jack relented and dropped his bag on the ground next to the line of boots and slippers in the foyer. Jack knew he needed to sneak out, to stop endangering these kind, weird people, to drive back to Kenny’s place and question his neighbor, scream at that man and his dog for- for what? Turning him into a werewolf? 

“Why can’t you just let me go?” Jack asked, following Eric as he headed back into the kitchen. Though the bakery was open today, Eric had called in sick and put one of his managers in charge. But Jack wasn’t a child and didn’t need a babysitter, so Eric was baking more experiments, stationed right where he could hear if Jack tried to sneak out. “This is stupid, I’m putting you and your friends in danger.” 

“We’re a lot of things, here in this house,” Eric said, tone too even to be genuinely calm. “But cowards ain’t one of them.” 

“But I’m a  _ monster _ ,” Jack argued, slapping a hand against one of the counter tops. “I need to get far away from everyone.” 

“And, what? Move to Antarctica?” Eric set down his spoon and gazed stonily at Jack, face pinched together in determination. “Why are you so determined to be alone?” 

“Because there’s something  _ wrong _ with me.” Jack huffed, frustration welling up in his chest. “Aren’t you scared? Why aren’t you scared?” 

“Of course I’m scared!” Eric snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “Jack, you turned into a  _ wolf _ . You tried to eat  _ Blue _ . You tried to eat  _ me _ as well, but Holster got you good with a baseball bat and the sound of Lardo’s shotgun scared you into the barn. This whole thing? It’s  _ terrifying _ . But if we don’t help you, who will?” 

His words hit Jack like a sucker-punch to the gut. He stumbled backwards and sank down against the kitchen wall, a cold wave of fear washing over him. He nearly  _ killed  _ Eric. He attacked these kind, unsuspecting people, and they still wanted to help him. A monster like him didn’t  _ deserve _ that. 

Sighing, Eric walked over and sat down next to Jack, arms wrapped tight around himself. “And...as scared as I am, I know you have to be a  _ million _ times more so. You shouldn’t be alone now, not with this. So unless you got somewhere you can go and  _ not _ be alone when you turn again, we got a barn we ain’t using and ropes and chain and other sorts of things for keeping a wolf from eating his dog. Okay?” 

Jack nodded stiffly. “Okay. Thank you. I can’t- how can I repay you?” 

Eric laughed and shook his head. “Come over here and give me your honest opinion of this pumpkin mousse I’m experimenting with. Then we’re even.” 

Jack followed him to the counter and tried to argue, but that proved to be pretty hard when he had a spoon shoved into his open mouth. 

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr @ [alphacrone](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/), come say hi


End file.
